Page 108 of Wicked Devotion
It’s a smile without teeth, one that doesn’t crease the corners of his eyes, that doesn’t make his eyes sparkle in the way I adore so much.
“If you say so,” I mumble. “Call me if you need anything.”
He nods before disappearing into the dark building like a living shadow while I’m left to wonder if it’s my fault. If I made him this way, robbed him of all the things that made himMax, just because I didn’t know when to stop.
I can’t go to my room right now. Can’t sit there, surrounded by things that are his. Stuff that smells like him, that reminds me of better days. Of fucking sunshine that seems to be gone.
So I open the door just enough to toss my bag inside and go straight to the shooting range. It’s between emptying a few rounds or smashing Sanders to a pulp. Rockwell wouldn’t like the latter, but something has to give for my brain to shut up.
Light comes from a single booth as I reach the shootingrange, a big figure leaning against the wall. It seems that Lieutenant Ryves has also reverted to old emotional regulation tactics.
“Welcome back,” he says as he notices me, putting his gun down. “How was the trip?”
“Cut short,” I answer, loading my gun. “I need to talk. About Max, and you’re my best option. My only option,” I add with a sigh.
“You really have a way of making someone want to help you, Logan,” he says, shaking his head. “So, what happened? Did the plan of keeping your abductee backfire?”
“I think so,” I say. “Didn’t backfire in full force yet, but it will. Something’s going on with Max, and it’s only a matter of time until the same happens with Lily, and she’ll leave. They all do.”
“Thought you wanted her to leave?”
“Things change.”
“Not if you can fight it, usually,” he says, and I focus on the bullets piercing the target in front of me.
“This isn’t supposed to be a fucking therapy session, Sam. I said I wanted totalk,not that I wanted to hear your dumb attempts at psychoanalysis. What am I gonna do if she and Max leave?”
“Was that a question?”
I turn around to glare at Sam.
“Just making sure before I let out moredumb attempts at psychoanalysis,” he says, and I press my lips into a thin line. “Logan, if she wanted to leave, she would have done so the first chance she got. It doesn’t take a mastermind to figure she likes you two morons, even though I can’t understand why.”
“No, she likes Max,” I retort. “And he keeps on telling her that we’re a package deal, so she accepts it. Like I’m the fucking licorice-flavored jelly bean in the bag.”
“Guess some people like licorice, disgusting or not,” hesays with a shrug, and the stupid grin on his face makes me want to point my gun somewhere other than the target.
“MaybeIshould leave. Make it easier for them. I’m just stopping them from doing their thing, and once I’m out of the picture, they can have their white picket fence life. Have two babies with chubby cheeks and all that shit. Max would love it. I don’t buy his fucking lie about how he only needs me and Lily to be happy.”
Next to me, Sam clears his throat, but the words won’t stop falling out of me.
“Can picture him standing on the porch, behind some absolutely disproportionate grill, wearing an apron Lily and the kids made for him. He’d take them to Disneyland. All of them with matching Mickey ears while Lily and the kids laugh at his stupid—“ I shoot, hitting the target right in the head, “ridiculous” another shot, to the heart this time, “unfunny jokes. I don’t fit into their perfect life, simple as that.”
A heavy hand on my shoulder pulls me back to reality.
“Are you done being dramatic, or should I bring you another magazine?”
I glare at Sam, who gently takes the gun from me.
“Remember what Rockwell told you when we were in Red’s office? I’m sure you didn’t like hearing it, but it’s the truth.We all know it, and you do, too. Max would break every single bone in his body and put himself back together in a wayyoulike, just because he wants to see you happy. He would put all of his dreams aside for you. Max would fucking die for you, and I don’t get how you’re able to ignore it like you do.”
Sam gives me my gun back, fetching his things to leave the shooting range, but not before speaking up again.
“Man the fuck up, Logan. Somewhere deep, deep down, you’re still human, no matter if you like it or not. You’re not a stone-cold robot, and no amount of trying to convince yourself is going to change it. It’s okay to be scared. We all are, fromtime to time. And we both know Max would force you to wear the damn Mickey ears.”
I open my mouth to yell something about how he doesn’t know shit and that his fucking lecture about me being scared is so far from the truth it’s hard not to burst out laughing, but the words won’t come out. And when they finally do, Sam is long gone.
It’s late at night when I accept that I can no longer avoid going back to my room, not unless I want to sleep in one of the cars in the garage.
